Can you see the beauty inside of me?
by UnicornStarFighter
Summary: He'd seen her before, obviously. (He saw everything.) He'd seen her and how timid she was and how her hands shook around him. He hadn't seen that she would be willing to go so far for him. He hadn't seen that she would be the one to save him. (Story begins after Episode 2 of Series 3)


Things had been so simple for a number of years, really.

Sure, he embroiled himself in some _extraordinarily_ absurd cases, but in his defense, the majority of Scotland Yard seemed to be completely incompetent, and the few that had anything close to skill as detectives were still nowhere near as good as he was. It was hardly like he almost got himself killed on a regular basis.

(Okay, he did. But isn't the point that he wasn't dead yet?)

His past had never been _easy_, certainly not, especially during his years with a _minor _case of addictions to cocaine and morphine, but he wasn't stupid. His degree in chemistry certainly proved that, as did his interactions with other human beings.

(Although it should be mentioned that the argument had been made many times that he wasn't human, but that's irrelevant. Mostly.)

Everything was straightforward after Gr- Grey? Graham? Gavin? George?

Greg.

Yes. That was it.

Greg.

Everything was straightforward after Greg Lestrade had approached him, offering connections to the police force, access to cases, and no punishment provided he got himself "clean for good, god damn it."

(He didn't really want the connections to the police force. He had enough pull thanks to his brother, but he wasn't about to admit that to anybody, and he was _bored._)

Everything was straightforward on the day when he sat in the lab at St. Bart's Hospital and Mike Stamford came through the door with a man who would eventually save his life in more ways than one.

(Although the number of near-death experiences did increase after John Watson's entry into his life, it wasn't as though he didn't know how to get out of them.)

His flat mate had girlfriends. Their names all blended together after a while, just like their faces.

(Not that he ever actually bothered to learn them in the first place. Goldfish.)

They came and went, none able to put up with him—forget his flat mate, they could never put up with _him_—for longer than a few months.

He had only ever met one woman that John Watson hadn't attempted to pursue, and it wasn't as though he could blame John.

(She was quiet, and when she spoke, she was always stammering. For someone who was so brilliant on paper, she didn't do a particularly good job of presenting that impression face-to-face.)

John tried to point out to him that there was probably a reason for that, but he ignored it.

(He ignored most things, really, so it wasn't as though that was much of a change.)

Everything was straightforward the day that they walked into a trap.

He hadn't really expected Jim Moriarty to be so... Capable.

(All right, he had, but that was the price he had to pay.)

Things were still straightforward even when he was panicking inside of his head, trying to figure out how to save both John's life and his own, analyzing every possible scenario for the best outcome, one that ideally included a dead Jim Moriarty and a very much alive John Watson.

(He'd had enough near-death experiences to know how to act during one.)

Then she came, but things still made sense. She may have won the battle, but he felt he won the war, and he still saved her life.

(She gave herself away in the end, after all. She deserved _some_ pity from him.)

He still wasn't hungry.

Then came the hallucinogens and the supposed hounds, but that was child's play when he got down to the bottom of it.

(He'd allow John to build it up for the blog. That was what John did. It was bothersome at first, but eventually... It grew on him, that's all he'd tell you.)

Everything was straightforward until the day that he had to die.

He'd seen her before, obviously.

(He saw everything.)

He'd seen her and how timid she was and how her hands shook around him. He'd also seen how often she aided him in his experiments, how she gave him access to things that he probably shouldn't have access to. He'd even seen that underneath all of the nervousness and insecurity, she radiated her own sort of strength.

He hadn't seen that she would be willing to go so far for him.

He hadn't seen that she would be the one to save him.

He certainly hadn't seen that things were going to go this far.

(He'd said it to John, once, and to her. It was his own fault, not that he would ever actually admit that to anybody.)

The one that Moriarty thought didn't matter at all was the one that mattered the most.

He couldn't help but feel that he might be too late.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Okay, okay, okay, I continued it.**

**I've been wanting to write a fanfiction like this for a while. I was going to leave off until after Series Three ended, but I decided I couldn't wait. It's probably going to be a while between chapters anyway (I just needed to get this out, I haven't even started the first chapter of it yet and I need to go work out and go to bed) because of school and musical and a bunch of other things.**

**This is a continuation of the one-shot that I posted a few hours ago at the time of posting this. It's called "I'm worried that I blew my only chance." (Yes, that title is taken from Whispers in the Dark by Mumford & Sons, and the title of this story is from City of Blinding Lights by U2. I thought it was appropriate, given how Molly's always been the one to see things about him that nobody else can)**

**My Teddy/Victoire fanfiction is my main priority at the moment, so that's the one I'll be updating regularly, but I'll try to make sure that I get something out for this fairly regularly. This is my second time writing anything for Sherlolly (First was the one-shot) so it probably won't be perfect, but I hope you'll like it anyway.**

**Peace and love x**

**~AC**


End file.
